


Animal Captive

by Monalisasandmadhatters20



Series: Love, or something like it. [2]
Category: Rocketman (2019)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Domestic Violence, Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2020-11-22 03:29:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20867465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monalisasandmadhatters20/pseuds/Monalisasandmadhatters20
Summary: Set about 6 months after Animal Freed.  I recommend reading that one first.Edited as of 3/21/2020





	1. Prologue

It was overcast. The dark clouds threatened to spill at the slightest opportunity. Thunder boomed loudly in his ear as he ran from the center’s exit door towards the waiting car. He had hoped to see the sun when he finally ventured out of those doors, but he supposed any sense of freedom could be had if only he changed his mindset. He threw open the door to his oversized pickup truck and climbed in the passenger side.

“Always odd to be on this side, mate,” he said, a smile on his face as he took in his best friend’s features. Greying brown hair, bright blue eyes, the smile always reserved only for him on his face. Dressed down in corduroy trousers and a linen button down, it was as though God himself had finally smiled down on him, and he felt more free than he had in years. His smile widened at the thought. “Is good to see you, mate. It’s been much too long.”

“I’ll say, Bernie Taupin. Three bloody years since I’ve seen your miserable mug,” Ray Williams replied, laughter in his voice as he pushed the clutch and changed gears. “Tell me, Taupin, why it took you going ‘round the bend for you to finally ring me up, eh? AND why did you let bloody Elton John be the one to call me in the first place? Let me tell ya, having him call DJM went over like a led balloon, mate.”

Bernie shrugged. “I’m a slow learner. You’ve said that enough, haventcha? I couldn’t call overseas on their damn phones. I was lucky he was in the US at the time, and even luckier I found which hotel he was staying at in New York. He’s overseas once again on a new tour now. Bloody Reid is ramming him into the ground like he did me.”

Ray snorted. “He's not touring at the moment, actually. They're playing house in LA still, so he’s ramming him somewhere I’m sure, not so certain it’s the ground outside, though. Even he has some morals.” Bernie couldn’t help but burst out laughing, which in turn caused Ray to laugh harder as well. “Elton chose this, you didn’t. Not really. I’m glad to have heard from you either way, and even gladder that you seem to be doing well. I was worried for a bit.”

“You always fretted like an old hen, Raymond. Sorry if that means nothing to me, mate.” Bernie laughed when Ray swatted at him. “You want to get some food? I think I have some bills and boy would I enjoy a hamburger. The food at the center was designed to make junkies put on weight, not for taste, I assure you.”

“Sounds good. The least you can do after making me have contact with Elton again… I don’t know why you keep him around, mate, after what he did…”

“Let’s not speak of it, yes? The past is the past and all the rot. Nothing I can do to change it, and to move forward I need to keep a clear mind.”

“I stepped in it again, didn’t I? Jesus, mate, I’m sorry.”

Bernie waved his hand. “No, you didn’t cock it up or anything. I just… It took a while to get through my head that it wasn’t anything I did that made him run back to Reid. I just need to keep that mindset before I end up back here again. Alright?”

Ray nodded. “So where to for the greasiest, most American burgers, mate, because I have to tell you, I’m dying for one myself.”

_ It’s okay to be alone. It’s okay to think of myself first, as I told Reg all those months ago. It’s okay to continue to heal. It’s just okay, Bernie. Everything is okay, _ he thought, lighting a cigarette and listening to Ray speak candidly of his life lately with half an ear. _ Now the hard work begins. _

*************************

When Elton allowed the animal within him freedom, he had truly thought he would free. He never imagined that now, the day before his fortieth birthday, he would be nothing but a captive in the game. He had let John back into his life because he was what Elton deserved. And he was what John deserved. 

They were a horrid pair, really. A match made in hell.

It was just easier for most to see the affect John had on Elton for most people. They never looked too deep into John wearing too many clothes even deep into the summer months. He had a professional style, had since he took up his career in music management of course, all suits and high necked shirts. They also never considered that John was riding a high because of the physical pain Elton caused him, not because he just dipped too much that day during the many parties he would hold. They never saw one or the other pull the other towards their bedroom in the middle of their parties nor the fighting that would occur behind closed doors that would make or break them for evening, either. Elton refused to lay down and take John’s shit anymore, and John had missed his lavish lifestyle too much to make him. 

Elton ensured he continued to be the world’s sweetheart, and John allowed him to. Money talks, no matter how much of a prick you are.

Sometimes, late at night when John was asleep, Elton would think of the simpler times in his life. He would think about all the dreams he had had before success hit them like a truck speeding down the highway. In none of those dreams was Bernie not present. He was supposed to be by his side through them all. They were best mates, lovers, everything two men could be for each other. Through thick and thin, they were supposed to always have each other.

But Elton fucked that up right proper.

“I can’t get this fucking bruise hidden, John,” Elton said, throwing down the makeup brush on the sink in disgust. “This is utter bullshit. I told you to leave my face alone this week, you wanker.”

“Wear a fucking mask then, Elton,” John called from the bedroom. “I don’t know what else to say.”

“How about a ‘I’m sorry for ruining your fucking birthday, Elton’? Or are you too good for sorries now?,” Elton asked, storming into the bedroom, his hands fisted at his sides.

“Why do I even put up with you, Elton?”

Elton shrugged, because really, he didn’t know why he put up with John either. He ran his fingers through his hair, focusing on calming down before he gave the man a matching bruise. “Have your trollop of a secretary go to the fucking party store and buy masks, John. For every. single. attendee. Thanks to you it’s a fucking masquerade ball.”

John groaned, getting to his feet. “Fine, whatever.”

“And you will be the one to stand at the door and pass them all out. Your whore can help, I suppose,” Elton said absentmindedly, walking into his closet. He was suddenly glad he had kept all the stupid costumes John made him wear over the years. He was bound to have something that looked decent.


	2. The Party

Bernie glared at the envelope sitting so fucking innocently on his kitchen island that Ray had set apart from the rest of the bloody bills and adverts that piled up during his time away. He could not  _ believe _ the nerve of that man, to write to him after what he did. Ray looked at him quizzically, not understanding why a personal letter would cause Bernie such stress.

“So maybe I haven’t actually forgiven him like I thought I had,” Bernie muttered, folding his arms across the front of his flannel shirt. He tried the stupid breathing exercises he was taught in rehab before nodding at the envelope. “Letter from Reggie… Right. Let’s get a bonfire going, mate! I still have some of his junk here still from when he fucking left me without a word... Just the right temperature for it and all.”

Ray chuckled, putting his hand on Bernie’s shoulder. “Do you want me to open it, Bernie? It might actually be important.”

“Doubtful,” Bernie sneered, picking up the  _ much too expensive _ envelope. “It is absurd the way he throws money around. Who needs to send letters in these heavy duty envelopes with the fancy stationary with his fucking name on the header, when you can get them at the corner store for pennies.”

“He’s Elton,” Ray said with a shrug, like it bloody explained it all. 

The annoying part is, it actually did.

Bernie sighed, handing Ray the letter. Ray pretended not to notice the tears that had begun to well in Bernie’s eyes at the mere thought of him. “Read it and tell me if it’s important. I’m going to check on my horses. The bloody stableboys better have earned their keep.”

Ray shook his head as he watched Bernie slam through his back door. He could not believe the change in attitude from when he picked him up and at that moment. He tore open the envelope, more curious about what the hell happened to them than he would ever admit.

_ Bernie, _

_ You stopped answering the bloody telephone again. You really need to just cut it off and be done with it, mate. Paying a bill for something you refuse to use seems absurd to me. And it’s not good for my blood pressure being ignored, you know, after that terrible chest infection I had almost succumbed to.  _

_ It has been months since I’ve heard from you. John said you had come by one afternoon and saw something that probably startled you. My apologies, mate, for not only leaving without a word of any reason why, but also for what you walked in on. John did not give specifics, I was quite intoxicated as I’m sure you can imagine, but I can only guess it was not something proper. _

_ My birthday is next week, in case you forgot. I don’t think you have ever forgotten throughout our entire friendship, so I am probably silly for reminding you. Still, it’s the big 4-0. I never imagined I’d reach 40, and definitely did not imagine reaching it without you by my side. I am throwing a party at my house the day before and would very much like for you to attend. There is no theme, no dress code, no presents needed: just some planned shenanigans. Nan Ivy and Mum will be there as well, and I would like to startle her more. If you want to come, I would love for you to attend. If you want nothing to do with me still, well, I can’t blame you on that. _

_ If you remember how to ring me up, I’d like to chat. If not, hopefully I’ll see you that night? _

_ Yours, _

_ Reggie _

Ray sighed, folding the letter neatly before putting it back in the envelope. He gazed out in the pasture, watching Bernie petting his stallion, a contented smile on his face. He  _ really _ didn’t want to tell Bernie about the party that very evening after his little fit about even receiving the letter itself, but he also didn’t want Bernie to get angry at him for keeping it from him either. He trudged out the door and down to the fence, the envelope held lightly in his hand.

“You should probably read it, mate, but it’s Elton’s birthday tomorrow and…”

“I know it’s his fucking birthday, and I don’t much care,” Bernie said darkly, jumping up and onto the saddle.

“He’s having a birthday party and invited you to come,” Ray quickly said before Bernie could take off on a ride.

Bernie pulled at the reins to stop his stallion from moving. “When?”

“Tonight.”

Bernie nodded just before the stallion galloped away. Ray sighed, leaning against the fence. He couldn’t help but have more questions after reading Elton’s letter, and he doubted he would ever get any answers.

_ I’ll put the letter on his bed, and find something to do while he gets his head straight. What the bloody fuck did I sign up for here?, _ Ray thought, walking back towards the house.  _ These two will be the death of me. _

  
  


**********************

“You ready?”

“For what?”

“The bloody party, Raymond. I have to at least make an appearance or the media will have a field day.”

“I haven’t been invited.”

“I don’t much care.”

“Are you sure you’re up to it?”

“No, not really. Just... Keep me away from the booze and drugs, mate, yeah? It’s hard enough without facing my demons head on.”

Ray nodded, getting to his feet. He set the Stephen King novel he found from Bernie’s library on the coffee table. He had been ‘reading’ (fretting) for hours, awaiting Bernie’s return. When Bernie went straight to his bedroom after returning Ray was apprehensive. He hoped Bernie would read the bleeding letter, but he also hoped Bernie would ignore it. He was always a bit irrational when it came to Elton... He let out the breath he did not realize he had been holding though when Bernie had taken the time to actually dress for the occasion. 

“I didn’t know you were a fan of mystery novels, Bernie. Have you actually read that?,” he asked, nodding to ‘It’. “It’s bloody huge.”

Bernie chuckled. “Yes, I have read it. It is quite good, but very time consuming. Sorry I didn’t stock up on picture books, Ray. I know they’re more your style,” he said, locking the door behind them.

Ray rolled his eyes, sliding into the banter with ease. “I can’t help being pretty, Bernie. And just because I’m pretty does not mean I am not intelligent. How many times must I say this for you to believe me?”

“When your words become action, mate. When your words become action.”

_ Maybe this won’t be so bad _ , Ray thought hopefully, hopping in Bernie’s truck. He stared at Bernie’s tense grip on the steering wheel, his eyes filled with such anxiety before they even made it to the main road. He dreaded the thought of keeping Bernie away from the substances that were no doubt already spread throughout Elton’s manor-house even more than he dreaded staying away from it all himself.  _ No, this is going to be a horrible night. It’s much too soon for Bernie to be able to handle this. I just hope he will let me help pick up the pieces when it all breaks down. _

Because Bernie was Ray’s best mate, Ray would do all he could to save Bernie from himself. Even if to save him meant keeping Bernie away from his only love.

  
  


*******************

Elton sat in his sitting room, his mum and nan on either side of him. He sipped gingerly at his vodka and tonic, watching ‘his’ party with distaste. The masks were more than a bit disappointing. The flimsy accessories were not of Elton John standard, and John bloody knew it. He grinned like the cheshire cat when he revealed them to his lover. 

It took all of Elton’s self-control not to smack the smug grin off his face.

He could tell his mum and nan were uncomfortable as the drink and drugs began to flow more freely. Months ago he would have been concerned. Now though… Now he was just so dead inside little things like other people’s emotions did not phase him.

He glared at John when he noticed him dancing with a new  _ female _ trollop pushed flush against him. He could deal with other men pushed against John, but he’d be damned if a female took his place for even a second. 

He finished his drink in one gulp before walking towards John. He pushed the man against the wall, mashing their mouths together in the angry haze that had become their life together. “ _ Mine _ ,” Elton growled, pulling at John’s lower lip with his teeth.

“And you are mine,” John murmured, wrapping his arms seemingly innocently around Elton’s shoulders, if not for the tight grip his fingers now had around his neck. “Stop causing a scene, Elton, and enjoy your fucking party. There are plenty of other people for you to irritate around here. Go fucking bother them,” he hissed into Elton’s ear, before biting down on the lobe. Elton moaned quietly, in pain or pleasure he didn’t even fucking know anymore. John always had that part of Elton wrapped around his little finger. He found himself nuzzling John’s chin in appreciation for the sensation.

They both looked towards the door when the doorbell rang. “Or answer the bloody door. Whatever catches your fancy. I’m busy, darling,” John sneered, pushing Elton away from him and rewrapping his arms around the trim waste of the stupid bitch that seemed to be his fancy for the evening...

Elton grumbled all the way to the door, wanting nothing more than to turn away and punch the smirk off his face. He adjusted the mask on his face. “Welcome to my home,” he said, flinching internally at the monotone his voice had become. He wished he could have just one sliver of emotion that was not anger or passivity for even a moment. “You can leave your coat on the… Bernie? Raymond? What… What are you doing here?”

Ray looked at Bernie to answer Elton for them. When a moment had passed and Bernie still was on the verge of panicking and not able to speak, Ray raised an eyebrow. “You invited him, and he invited me, so here we are. Are we actually welcome to enter your home, or should we just stand out here, love? I suppose either is fine with us.”

“No, no, come in! Come in! Sorry, I seem to have lost my manners,” Elton said, standing aside. He watched Ray give Bernie a gentle push with a frown.  _ Did Bernie really not want to be here? Does he want me out of his life forever? _ , Elton fretted, wringing his hands in front of him. “You came. I… I didn’t think you would come.”

“I got your letter today. Well, I mean, I received it today, but I haven’t actually read it yet. Ray… He read it for me and told me about your party. So here we are,” Bernie stammered, shucking his coat off quickly.

Elton raised his eyebrows. “I sent that letter last week, Bernie. You just got it today? And you didn’t even read it yourself? Did you ignore it like my bloody phone calls again?”

“I’ve been… away for a while, Reg. Sorting myself out a bit. I had to after…,” Bernie sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “No matter.. I really don’t plan to stay long. I just… wanted you to know I was thinking about you.”

“Well, come on in, then. The shenanigans have just begun! I’ll fix you a vodka and tonic and…”

“Oh, no thank you, Reg. I’m on the narrow now. Water will be just fine, really.”

Elton stared at Bernie, his head tilted to the side in confusion. “You’re sober now?” Bernie nodded. “How did you do it?”

The longing in his voice made Ray flinch. He had always felt like an outsider looking in when it came to Elton and Bernie’s friendship. He never understood the inner workings of their relationship, and he did not ever expect to. Elton looked at Bernie with such awe at times it made Ray feel like he was intruding. This was one of those times.

He tapped Bernie’s shoulder. “I’m going to get a drink. I’ll catch up with you after.”

Bernie nodded, eyes never leaving Elton’s. “Rehab. That’s the number I had you tell Raymond to call. It bloody sucked, mate,” Bernie huffed, folding his arms across his chest. “But I got through it somehow, and here I am on the other side.”

Elton chuckled, wrapping his arm around Bernie’s shoulders and leading him to the mini bar. “I can’t even imagine. I have some bottled water over here, I think. I know I have some Coca Cola.” Bernie shrugged out of Elton’s grasp and Elton shuffled awkwardly the rest of the way to the minifridge. “You… you look real good, Bernie. Sobriety agrees with you. I’m glad you came. I know Nan will be pleased to see you.”

Bernie nodded. “Reid is glaring at me,” he said, moving to stand behind Elton.

“John glares at everyone. Just glare back. It makes him quite cross,” Elton said, evidently unaware of Bernie’s unease as John walked towards them. He handed Bernie a water with a bright smile on his face. “Here ya go, mate! I promise, it’s just water.”

“Taupin. Williams. How… lovely to see you both,” John said, grabbing Elton’s hip in a painful grip.

“Same to you, Reid,” Bernie responded stiffly, grateful for Ray who had returned to his side when he saw John take an interest in them.

“You’re hurting me, John,” Elton muttered, glaring at the man.

“Good,” he muttered back. “Elton, I think we need to have a short chat in the sun room, what do you think?”

“I am actually quite busy catching up with my mates, John. You said it was my party and to go irritate other people. So here I am.”

“That wasn’t a request, Elton. Come.”

Bernie watched Reid forcefully guide Elton from the room, his hands fisted at his side. He felt so useless, once again. “I wasn’t ready for this, Ray. Let’s… Let’s go back to my house, alright?”

“No problem, mate. I’ll drive, alright?”

Bernie nodded, fishing the keys from his pockets. “I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to have Reggie back in my life, Ray, as long as Reid is around. He’s such a different person with Reid… He doesn’t care about anyone or anything… I miss my oldest mate, Ray...”

Ray put his arm around Bernie’s shoulder and squeezed. “I know, Bernie. We’ll figure it out as it goes, mate. I don’t plan on leaving anytime soon. You’re not alone, alright?”

_ But just how many times did I say that to Elton, and how many times did he end up alone? _


	3. Penance

“So you decide I exist again when Bernie and Ray show up? How fucking predictable,” Elton groused, leaning against the mesh wall of the sunroom. He couldn’t help the pout that came upon his face as he folded his arms across his chest. “If they didn’t come you would have been perfectly fine grinding against that  _ thing _ while I watched, wouldn’t you?”

“I’m sorry if I object to you talking to your  _ ex-lover _ , Elton, when we discussed you would stay clear of him as long as you remained with me. I’ve put up with a lot because for some strange reason I still am in love with you, but I will not put up with you flirting with  _ Taupin _ in front of me!”

“I wasn’t fucking flirting with him, John! I was just as surprised he came as you are.”

“You told him he looked good, Elton. If that’s not flirting, what is?”

“That is making an observation, John, not fucking flirting. Flirting is behaving as though you are attracted to someone, for your own fucking amusement, like you are want to do. Flirting is grinding against any warm body that catches your fancy. Flirting is  _ not _ telling a mate he looks fucking healthy and that your happy for him! God, John, you are so bloody infuriating with your fucking double standards!”

John took Elton’s wrists in his hand, holding them high above his head, smirking when Elton tried to keep balance on the toes of his heeled shoes. He leaned close, breathing heavily into Elton’s ear, smiling at Elton’s hiss of pleasure. “I think it’s time you went to our rooms, Elton. I think you have become just a bit too high strung to enjoy our gathering this evening. I will make your apologies for you, love. This is all Taupin’s doing, you know. He makes you forget what you are. What you were born to be. I’ve been lenient with you for too long, haven’t I? Letting you believe you had some sway over our relationship and how it’s going to be.” Elton hissed again, nodding almost unwillingly. “It’s time for the animal to be tamed again, isn’t it, Elton? Go up to our rooms, Elton. I’ll be up shortly.”

Elton crumbled to the floor when John released him, his body heaving with heavy sobs. He limped up the stairs, shame coursing through his veins, worrying his right ankle from the unexpected fall. He moved as quickly as he was able, not wanting to cause any more issues tonight.

He should have known there was only so far he could push before John fought back.

_ Bernie would never treat me like this. Bernie would never allow this. My sweet Bernie, how I fucked my life up when I left you.  _

_ This is my penance. This is my penance for ruining our life together. This is what I deserve. _

  
  


*********************

  
  


Bernie held his coffee cup loosely in his hands. He never did fall asleep, no matter how hard he tried. Ray had made them both breakfast, but Bernie could not stomach anything just yet. Even the black coffee was hell going into his system. He glared at Ray’s concerned face over the rim of the cup. “Stop fucking looking at me like I’m going to fall apart at the seams, Ray. I’m bloody fine.”

Ray only hummed, taking a bite of his toast.

“I am, Raymond! It doesn’t matter that Reg seemed so happy without me. It doesn’t matter that he looked healthier than he has in years. It also doesn’t matter that he looked so damn good in that bloody suit I wanted to rip it off of him like I did in the past, crowd be damned, nor does the fact that he chose fucking  _ Reid _ over our life together matter....” Bernie’s face crumbled as he set his cup on the saucer. “It just doesn’t fucking matter,” he repeated.

Ray scoffed, unable to help himself. “Of course it bloody matters, Bernie.”

Bernie cleared his throat. He shook his head. “No. It doesn’t matter because I am not going to be led down that path again, Ray. I am not going to forget about me just to save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. He wants Reid for some fucked up reason, not me. And if this all means going through life without him, so be it, I suppose.”

Ray leaned forward, furrowing his brow. “It’s going to be the hardest thing you have ever done, Bernie. Do you really think it is possible to stop your bleeding Elton John obsession so suddenly?”

“I know it will be hard. But it will be worth it, I reckon, in the end. Reg needs to decide what he wants. I can’t make his decisions for him. He has to want to be free. He has to want to get help. If he doesn’t, and I continue this game we play, who is really losing here? Me. Only me.” Bernie sighed. “I know I’ll fail at staying clear of him, Ray, I know I will. I care about him too bloody much. But I have to try, right? I have to try.”

Ray refilled Bernie’s cup. “You can’t help him if you are a mess yourself, Bernie. Remember that. It’s okay to focus on yourself just a little bit longer.”


	4. The Fear of Being Alone

“Mr. John?”

Elton groaned, burying his face impossibly further in his pillow. He was having such a brilliant dream… He did not want to come back to reality just yet. “Leave ‘lone...” Why was it when he did not want to disturbed, someone always had to bug him? He just wanted to go back to his fucking fantasy world. Where everything was just wonderful and nothing hurt anymore… Was that too much to ask? 

He didn’t want to exist in the real world any longer. He was tired, his head hurt, and his body ached in a way it hadn’t in months. He heard his bedroom door close gently, and soft footfalls towards his bed. “Please, go ‘way” he mumbled, hoping his will alone would force away whoever dared to disturb him.

“Mr. John, I’m here to clean you up, sir,” the intruder said, sitting beside him on the bed like it was allowed... “Mr. Reid sent me.”

Elton turned to face her. Slowly. Painfully. “Oh, did he now? How fucking lovely is he, then, eh?,” he grumbled, reaching for his glasses on the bedside table. “I’ll probably forget your name in a minute, love, but remind me?”

The girl laughed, a rather shrill sound that made Elton flinch. He just wasn’t drunk enough for this bullshit…  _ And John had to know it too, the wanker... _ “My name is Maisie, Mr. John. I’ve worked for you for almost 15 years now. I’ve cleaned you up many times after...”

“Have you now?,” he interrupted. “Well, my sincerest apologies, Maisie, but I will forget your name the moment you leave. It’s for the best, you see? I can be quite flighty, I’ve been told. Where’s my fucking gin, then, darling, if you must wake me for something as silly as this?”

Maisie laughed again, pulling the blankets down. “Let me bandage you up first, Mr. John, then I’ll get you a drink.” She ran her fingers gently across his open welts. Elton shuddered in revulsion. The touch was much too ‘familiar’ to be done by the help... “Why do you allow this, Mr. John? Sorry if I am overstepping my station here, but it seems to get worse each time.”

Elton winced. “It keeps him here so I’m not alone, darling. And yes, you are overstepping, quite a bit actually, thanks...”

“I’m sorry, Mr. John. It’s just… I fear one day even this won’t be enough for him, and then where will you be?,” she asked, applying salve to his back. “This can’t make you happy, Mr. John. I’ve seen you when you were truly happy. You were just so delightful to work for! Now you are just…”

“Dead inside, yes, enough of that now, love. I hear it everyday. Just do what you were told to do so I can get back to my wonderful dreams, yes?”

_ Stupid girl…, _ Elton thought, biting his pillow as she applied salve to his back.  _ I should fucking fire her. I don’t need to hear… the truth… from my damn help. I don’t pay them for the truth. _

She helped him to his feet and guided him to his armchair with a gentle hand. She covered him with warm blankets, and left him be with his only solace as of now without a word. He shook his head, beyond confused. He couldn’t remember the last time he had received a gentle touch from anyone. 

He drank his gin, her musings swirling in his head more than he would care to admit. He tried to halt them by reminding himself he was just  _ fine _ , thank you very much, but her stupid words took more affect than he had hoped. He might be fine for the time being, yes, but her simple question was one he found he had no answer. 

What  _ would  _ happen when  _ whatever the fuck they had _ just wasn’t enough for John anymore? When their fights and the beatings continued to worsen, like they had before? When he stumbled from show to show, too drunk or too stoned or just too hurt to function properly? Or worse, when John might decide Elton himself just wasn’t  _ enough _ for him anymore? When John decided the games were not worth the energy it took to keep him alive? 

He could deal with the daily beatings. He could deal with broken bones. He could deal with the absolute manipulation the man had over him. He could even deal with all the crass words doled to him at a steady pace. 

But what he couldn’t deal with was being alone.

Elton smacked his head when he came to that conclusion. He was so angry with himself! It should have been  _ obvious  _ to him, especially now, that that was his biggest fear. Throughout his relationship with John, he had never been alone. John knew that Elton needed almost constant affirmation and affection to be able to function properly, and ensured that if he were not with him, one of the many lovers John had accrued over the years would be. If Elton couldn't function, then who would fund John's lavish lifestyle?

And when he left John, he went to fucking Pinner and it was there his Nan ensured he was never alone for long, doting on him and cleaning up after all his messes. When he returned home, he brought his Nan and Mum to his house so he wouldn’t be alone, and he had Bernie’s ranch to seek refuge.

Bernie was supposed to be his refuge, always...

He left Bernie because Bernie refused to acknowledge what their relationship was. He refused to acknowledge that they actually had feelings for each other, that their love was something as deep and profound as the lyrics he wrote during their time together. He refused to acknowledge that Elton  _ meant _ something to him. Elton was 'just his mate' to everyone they came across. He had even dropped the ‘best’ as the months went on, as though that would make people see they had sex on the regular... 

Elton knew that the ingrained homophobia, internal and otherwise, would be difficult for Bernie to overcome. Bernie was there for Elton, yes. He was barely alone and almost always received the affirmation and affection he desired, yes. He did all he could to ensure Elton's needs were taken care of, physically, emotionally, and sexually. But it seemed almost as though Bernie felt it was nearly  _ inescapable  _ near the end. That if he did not tolerate this inevitability, Elton's desires, Elton would die.

Elton did end up dying, metaphorically at least. Bernie just didn’t know he was the fucking cause.

Elton knew he should have spoken up. Elton knew he should have shared what was going on in his brain before he panicked. Elton knew he shouldn't have just run away when he berated Bernie for doing it so often. But Elton did not want to deal with it. He did not want to deal with the aftermath. He did not want to have to explain something that, to him at least, was clear as day. 

Elton also did not want to admit part of the reason he left was because Bernie treated him  _ well. _ He did not want to tell Bernie he was feeling almost suffocated in their relationship. Even if Bernie did not realize the pain he caused Elton by refusing to acknowledge their relationship he still treated him like he was something special, and Elton  _ loathed _ that. 

Elton went back to his home, and he begged John to return home too, because he just  _ knew _ John would know what he needed without any conversation involved, and he also knew John would treat him the way he fucking deserved.

Elton took a long pull from his bottle. The booze and the drugs were the only reason he was able to hold on now. The fact he could leave his chosen hell, even for just a little while, was his only comfort. He chose this life. He chose the path of self-destruction. He chose his life-long punishment and ruination for allowing his animal freedom to run. 

Though he now had to admit, thanks to that stupid girl, he could not continue on this path forever. Something would have to give sooner or later. And in the end, it would probably him.

  
  


***********************

“Bernie? Elton’s on the phone.”

“And?”

“And he wants to talk to you.”

“Okay?”

“Don’t you want to talk to him?”  
“Not really, no.”

“What am I supposed to tell him then?”

“I told you not to bloody answer the phone, Ray. You figure it out.”

Ray pinched the bridge of his nose. He was stumped on how to be of any aid in this whole fucked up situation. Bernie just refused to fucking cooperate. Elton refused to fucking cooperate.  _ I should have just bloody stayed in London, _ Ray thought, folding his arms across his chest. “And you bloody complained about Elton doing nothing to better his situation, when you are just as bad, Bernie.”

“What are you banging on about, Raymond?,” Bernie asked, glaring at the man in the doorway. “I am nothing like him.”

“Really? Because I beg to differ, mate. You both deal with things the same. exact. way! Elton’s birthday party was five weeks ago. You have been lazing about for weeks. Barely speaking. Barely eating. Barely sleeping. And don’t think I don’t know about the alcohol you have hidden in your room when you finally can’t take it anymore, mate, and need something to sleep, because the pills you have me give you don’t do half as good as the doctors had hoped. All you have to do is talk, Bernie… Bloody talk to him! Get the answers you so desperately wanted that day, Bernie, so you can at least move on, with or without him. He’s your fucking best mate. The other half of your bleeding soul. Anyone can see it if they’ve been around you both…”

Bernie’s face crumbled. “I can’t… I can’t talk to him, Ray. I drove him away. I drove him into Reid’s arms twice now. He may have forgiven me, and I may have said I forgave myself, but I haven’t. Not really. If I had just been honest with him in the beginning, or if I didn’t care about what other people thought when we landed, he would not have ever even been in the position to meet Reid, nevermind be hurt by him over and over. He wouldn’t be back with Reid if I’d just stopped with appearances and loved him as he deserved. He wouldn’t be hurting as he is if I’d just been manned up and been fucking honest with him and myself, Ray.”

Ray shook his head. “Bernie, you don’t know that, and you are killing yourself with the could have, would have, should have bullshit. Just… Talk to him, Bernie.”

Bernie sighed, wiping his eyes with his pajama sleeve. “I guess I can’t feel any worse than I do now, really… Is he even still on the phone?”

“Only one way to tell, mate. Go talk to him.”

Ray barely held back his cheer when Bernie pulled himself to his feet.  _ Baby steps, that’s all we need right now, baby steps. _


	5. Unexpected Consequences

When Bernie awoke that morning he never expected to receive a phone call from Elton. After weeks shunning all responsibilities, (and well, wallowing in quite a bit of self-pity), Bernie was still quite content in laying about on the sofa, flipping through the inane soap operas on the tele, and ignoring Ray as kindly as he was able. Being invited to Elton’s home for dinner was just so bizarre he found himself agreeing before their conversation was through.

Ray was very content watching Bernie scramble to make himself presentable while he flipped through the stations idly this time. He had never been as emotionally wrought as he had been as the weeks passed. He planned to settle down and watch bad romantic comedies and eat as much pizza and chocolate as his stomach could handle, like he did as a teenager and on the verge of a mental breakdown. He couldn’t believe the strength Bernie must have to be able to have done this for Elton for so many years without reaching his own end! It was as though a switch was flipped in Bernie’s brain the moment the call ended: a switch Ray would never be able to find, no matter how hard he looked.

Ray wished him luck, told him he looked quite dapper in his simple trousers and button down shirt, and told him he had best fight for him this time or he would personally kill them both. 

The look of unease that flitted across Bernie’s face made Ray’s heart sing.

  
  


*****************

Bernie may not have expected to find himself parking in Elton’s empty driveway that evening, but he was rather pleased with the turn of events. He felt good for the first time in so long. He refused to acknowledge Ray was correct all along and that even just a simple shower and shave and real clothes would have made him feel tons better, though. 

He wondered if this was how Elton felt with him at times…

He gripped the bouquet of red roses in his hands, feeling unsure about how they would be taken now that he was standing at Elton’s door. Elton always loved flowers, and he especially loved them when Bernie gifted them to him. He felt awkward now, standing at Elton’s front door with them in his sweaty hands like some school boy trying to woo their sweetheart.

He knocked on the door quickly before he gave in and ran back to his truck.

Elton answered the door just as quickly, a welcoming smile on his face. “Bernie, I… I didn’t think you’d actually come. Are those for me?”

“Of course they are, Elton. Your favourite, of course,” Bernie said, shoving them forward. He felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment, and cursed himself for the stupid gesture. 

“They are beautiful, as always, Bernie. Come in, come in. I ordered in… It should be delivered soon. I hope you weren’t expecting a home cooked meal. I may or may not have fired most of my staff in a bitch-fit last week...”

“Say what now?,” Bernie asked, stepping through the doorway.

“Yeah… It was after I may or may not have broken John’s arm in an… argument.” Bernie raised his eyebrows. “It was…” Elton stopped, his voice hitching, and ran his fingers through his hair.

“A rough night,” Bernie finished, a ghost of a smile on his face.

Elton smiled back, taking his hand in his. “You know me so well, darling.” They sat in Elton’s sitting room. “We agreed to split up, as really, we are terrible for each other, and that he would not say I had hurt him, and I wouldn’t tell the bobbies about what he did to me to make me angry enough to do it. So… all’s well that ends well, I suppose.”

Bernie caressed Elton’s face, unable to take his eyes away from the bruises in various shades of healing. “As wonderful as it is that you finally kicked the John habit, love, how are you really doing with it all, Elton?”

“I’m… better than I thought I would be,” Elton replied, leaning into Bernie’s touch. ‘I’ve been alone most of this week. I’ve actually almost healed completely since he isn’t here to cause any more damage. I fretted so about him leaving me, but now I feel almost like the noose around my neck has loosened and I can finally breathe for the first time. It’s… glorious, really.”

“I’m glad, Elton. So, so glad. I’ve… I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” Elton said, leaning into Bernie’s side. He smiled when Bernie’s wrapped his arm around him. “There’s just so much I need to tell you. So much I need to explain to you, Bernie. I ghosted you and then I pretended everything was the same when you came for my birthday party from hell. I wronged you over and over and over again, yet you are still here. I don’t know what I would do without you in my life.” 

“You have had to figure it out a few times, Elton, and you’ve done mostly fine…”

“No, Bernie, I haven’t done anywhere near fine, don’t try to sugarcoat it,” Elton scolded lightly. He sighed. “I also… overheard most of your talk with Ray when he was trying to get you to take my phone call. That’s kind of why I invited you over. None of this bullshit was your fault, Bernie. None of it.”

“But in America, when I…”

“Heather was eons ago, mate. And so was Maxine, and Toni, and all the other fucking birds you bedded while fitting into societies mold. You did nothing wrong,” Elton repeated, running his fingers through Bernie’s hair. “Bernie, what I’m trying to say is I don’t blame. I don’t blame you at all. This was all me, Bernie. I fucked things up. I’ll never forgive myself for hurting you. There is something wrong inside me, that will always make me look for the next high, whether it be drugs or alcohol or sex or shopping, whatever. I thought John was my fix. I thought John was my end all. His control over me. But it’s not, and never was.” 

Bernie nodded, holding Elton closer to himself. He didn’t trust himself to speak. Elton snuggled into his chest with a contented sigh.

“I’m going to get help, Bernie. I was considering it already, making some phone calls here and there all week, but hearing your pain, that’s what sealed it. I’m fucking 40 years old now. I need to stop this cycle of despair.”

“Have you found a facility, love?,” Bernie asked, his voice steadier than he felt.

“Yes. It’s in Chicago. They’ll deal with the drink, the drugs, and my eating disorder. I’m… I’m fucking terrified, Bernie.”

“I know, sweetheart. I was too. Will you let me live up to my promise from before? Will you let me help you? Will you let me in? No half truths, no running if things get too hard, and begin to forgive yourself little by little every day?”

“I need you more than ever, Bernie.”

“I’m here, love. I’m not going anywhere.”

  
  



	6. Rehabing the Spirit

“Can I just say I never thought I’d be doing this, and maybe I should continue not doing this, and we can just stay here forever?,” Elton asked, his limbs comfortably entwined with Bernie’s. His eyes were closed, a tired smile on his face, while Bernie carded his fingers through his hair.

“You said you wouldn’t back out, Elton. You said you were ready to face everything about yourself,” Bernie murmured. He kissed the top of Elton’s head. “You still have two hours before we fly out. Let’s not get cold feet now, my love. Please?”

Elton sighed, snuggling impossibly closer to Bernie. “When I made the arrangements to go to rehab I hadn’t expected this week to be so fucking lovely. For you to be so wonderful, Bernie, after everything.”

Bernie snorted. “I feel as though I should be offended by that, but I am far too knackered.” Elton laughed softly, a sweet sound Bernie would never tire of. “Sweetheart, I know you are worried about leaving. You are thinking something will change while you are gone, but I promised you that I wouldn’t leave you again. I meant it, Elton. I meant it with all my heart. You are my soul, and that won’t change. You will change for the better, and we will adapt and grow together as well. It’s going to be a grand adventure, my love, and I for one am very excited.”

“You said it was hard, though, when you went. You said it was one of the most difficult things you’ve ever done. I’m not strong like you, Bernie.”

“Look at me please, sweetheart,” Bernie said, tipping Elton’s head back so he could look into his eyes. He caressed Elton’s face, gently wiping away his tears. “You are right, my love, you are not strong ‘like me’. You are stronger. You have dealt with things no man should have to go through, and came out on the other side. From day one, life has tried to knock you down, but you keep fighting. You are my inspiration. You can do this, Elton. You can beat the demons inside you. I know you can.”

Elton leaned forward and captured Bernie’s lips in his. They lazily exchanged kisses and many tears throughout their time left together. Elton was still uncomfortable with anything more, and still would not tell Bernie what had happened  _ that night _ to cause the change, but Bernie more than respected it. Elton had never felt such love and devotion towards himself from anyone in his life. It was equal parts terrifying and exhilarating, and he fought each minute not to flee.

  
  


******************

“This bloody sucks, Bernie!” Elton glared at the phone, listening to Bernie’s tinkling laughter on the receiver. “No, really, Bernie, why are you fucking laughing? Here I am about to tell you I don’t think I can handle this shit, Bernie, and you are bloody laughing!” Elton folded his arms across his chest, feeling quite pitiful as Bernie kept laughing. “They keep trying to make me talk about my  _ feelings _ and making me eat and sleep and everything. They’re worse than you on a bad day!”

_ “Oh, my love, I’m sorry for laughing. I know it’s difficult. I had to do it too, remember?” _

“Yeah. I feel even more horrible for not being there for you after experiencing it myself.”

_ “Oh don’t feel bad, Elton. It’s really okay. You were dealing with… Other things… And that gave me the wake up call I needed. I had Ray to get me through when I needed someone.” _

Elton pushed down the sudden wave of jealousy he always had when Ray’s name entered their conversations. It was something he was really trying to come to terms with in his counseling sessions. “How is Ray?”

_ “He’s a bleeding git, he is. I told him he needs to get a fucking hobby and stop hovering around me like I’m going to jump off Santa Monica Pier of something before I push him off Santa Monica Pier myself.” _

“Sounds familiar. Didn’t I tell you that once?”

_ “Yes, but it was the River Thames I believe. And I still wasn’t overreacting. You were having a fucking seizure on my sofa, then went back to injecting like nothing fucking happened.” _

“Yes, yes, good times, bad meth. Good thing I switched to coke not too long after, eh?,” Elton joked. “I’m smiling now, by the way. Thank you for always making me smile, Bernie.”

_ “I will do anything for that smile, Elton. I can’t wait to see it.” _

Elton couldn’t help his blush. “I miss you, Bernie. When are you coming to visit?”

_ “Soon, my love. I got clearance just the other day to come visit you. There were a lot of hoops to jump through to get approval from your therapist. But I have my flight booked for Sunday and I’ll be coming on Monday. It was going to be a surprise.” _

Not even his terrible group therapy session later that afternoon dimmed Elton’s smile.

******************

“It’s a good thing you stay behind the piano when performing. If you showed moves like that the arenas would empty in seconds,” Bernie said, smirking at Elton as he dropped the mop with a quiet ‘eep’. Bernie opened his arms, a wide smile on his face. “I’m pretty certain the mop is used for cleaning, not as a dance partner. Are you really that lonely, my love?”

“Bernie!,” Elton cheered, jumping into the man’s arms. “Oh Bernie, I am so happy you are here! I didn’t actually expect you to come,” he said, resting his head on Bernie’s shoulder.

“You never expect anyone to follow what they say in regards to you, my love. I can’t wait for the day that doubt leaves your mind. I promised to be there for you through everything, my love. And that promise still stands true.”

Elton scrubbed his face with his hand, feeling increasingly awkward facing Bernie for the first time in weeks. He had expected Bernie to forget about him while he sorted himself out. The love for him almost radiating off of Bernie was almost too much for him to handle. “Let me just put this away right quick, and maybe we can walk to the courtyard? They have such lovely gardens here. So peaceful,” he said quickly, before rushing to the janitors closet. 

Bernie watched Elton trip over his own slippers in his haste, his head tilting in utter bemusement. He leaned against the wall of the empty corridor, wondering if his visit was much too soon for Elton’s state of mind. If his selfish desire to see for himself that Elton was healing would be nothing but an unneeded complication.

When Elton never returned for their walk, Bernie left with a broken spirit.

*******************

Elton was very cross. He spent most of his days cross now. The other residents in the facility stayed clear of him, which was fine. His hostile attitude was much the talk throughout the circles, which was also fine He threw more bitch fits now than he ever had, which was more than fine. If he was thrown out of the facility, it wouldn’t be breaking the promise he made to Bernie, would it?

He had hoped Bernie would return to visit like he always did when Elton vanished. As the minutes turned to hours, the hours to days, and days to weeks, Elton had given up much hope of salvaging what they had. He sat at the phone often, choking back sobs, trying to find the will within himself to pick it up and beg for forgiveness. 

His counselors were kind to him, even after he threw his chair at the wall during one terrible session. They congratulated him on channeling his aggression onto an inanimate object and not a person. It was disconcerting.

One afternoon he finally found the strength to pick up the phone. The next afternoon he dialed Bernie’s digits. The third day he actually stayed on long enough to hear Ray’s stupid, overly cheerful greeting. It was on the fourth day he finally asked to speak with Bernie. And it was on the fifth day he actually stayed on long enough to hear his voice, his sheet of words he wanted to say in his trembling hand.

“I’m sorry!,” he blurted out before Bernie could say a word. “I was scared and confused and I wanted to see you, but didn’t, and please forgive me!”

_ “Reggie, calm down. It’s alright, my love. I should have expected it.” _

Elton sighed. “Oh Bernie, that’s not how this is supposed to go. You are supposed to be angry and tell me how silly I was for running out on you again. Not be all forgiving.”

_ “No, you are confusing me with John, Reggie. I was never angry with you, love. I was angry with myself. I know personally how terrible rehab is, and how I was in the first weeks of my lock up. I was selfish in coming to see you before you were really ready.” _

“You know, I have a bleeding list of things I wanted to say sitting in front of me, and now I don’t know what to say because you didn’t react correctly.”

Bernie laughed.  _ “No, I did react accordingly, Reggie. This wasn’t your fault. I know it, and deep down you know it too. I was heartbroken because I pushed you into a panic attack just by showing up because I wanted to see you.” _

“I thought I was ready.”

_ “I know. And it’s okay that you weren’t. When you are ready, I am here.” _


	7. That Night

It was just after three in the morning and Bernie was knackered. He had been up most nights dealing with absurd night terrors since the day he received a call stating Reg had left the center against medical advice. Bernie had no idea where to even start looking for him, either. He had driven to his home, and then to the home he bought for Sheila and Ivy, to find them both vacant. 

He worried about Ivy. She was feeling more and more poorly every day. The fact their home was vacant as well made Bernie fret more than Reggie signing himself out of the facility.

Ray had emptied the ranch of all alcohol and other substances the day Bernie got the news. Bernie had been doing well in moderation, but as they both knew, Bernie could not continue to moderate himself when the worry choked him.

Bernie got up from his bed with a sigh. Sleep was just not in his cards that evening. He threw his old dressing gown over his pajamas and padded lightly to the kitchen. Ray was snoring so he would not be bothered this morning for which he was grateful. He cherished the man, he truly did, but he was worse than his mam had been when he was a tot.

He settled into the stool at his kitchen island and stared at the front door, willing for Reggie to come visit him. It was 3 in the morning of course, Reg’s normal time for all social visits. He slowly sipped his tea, willing a knock to sound on his door, as he had every night this week.

Bernie prayed Reg was not shacking up with Reid somewhere. His heart would never be able to handle that again.

He stepped outside to watch the sunrise, as had become his morning routine.  _ Reg, wherever you are, I hope you are well. Please come home to me soon, preferably no more broken than when you left. I love you. _

  
  


********************

Elton tried to keep his promise to Bernie. He really, really did. He had gone to the stupid therapies they told him to, he had listened to the aides stupid suggestions, he ate and ate and ate until he felt like he was over five hundred pounds. He took the medications they jammed down his throat like a good boy. It was fine, really fine, he guessed, until the subject of John and  _ that night _ came up.

He didn’t even pack up all his things after walking out of the group session. He walked to the front desk and signed out, retrieved his billfold, and ran out the front door.

It wasn’t until he was settled in the taxi he realized he never put on shoes. The slipper socks they gave him would have to do until he reached a destination, he supposed.

He knew he looked a fright in his black tracksuit and bright yellow hospital socks, unshaven and what remained of his hair standing on end, but he received a room at the hotel without much fanfare. He locked himself in, raiding the minifridge bar with gusto, and ordered a large dinner from room service to celebrate his freedom.

Hugging the porcelain hours later as he vomited up his large meal was atonement for breaking his last promise to Bernie. He was a wretched, wretched man who didn’t deserve to live much longer, nevermind be loved by such a lovely man. He was broken, unclean… He would never be clean again after  _ that night _


	8. Punishment doesn't always fit the crime...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That night, explained...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was hard to write. This may be triggering for some.

The house party had been a delight, at first. They always were. Elton had sat cuddled next to John, his arm wrapped possessively around Elton’s shoulders. John lay kisses upon the top of Elton’s head, his forehead, his cheeks, and even ever so gently on the lips. He ensured Elton’s tumbler was not empty for long, and that any drug Elton wished for was set in front of him with haste. Elton had not felt as cherished as this in so long he had to keep choking back sobs. John had not been this indulgent since the very beginning of their relationship. The conversation flowed freely between them and John’s closest friends, John allowing Elton to speak his mind without fault, and Elton knew the rest of the faceless crowd within his house was having just as good of a time as he himself was.

He should have known it would not last, of course. Nothing good ever lasted in his life.

John had excused himself when the help had brought in the champagne. Elton watched him speak quietly with the one he promised to forget the name of, keeping a half an ear on the conversation surrounding him as John poured two flutes of champagne himself. John handed Elton one of them and nodded to the help as they passed out the drinks. John placed his hand on Elton’s neck. Elton was sure it looked like a loving gesture, so he did his best not the wince as the grip tightened. 

“I believe it is time for a toast,” he had called out to the crowd, his fingernails digging into Elton’s neck, “to a brilliant man, our guest of honor, whom I am honored to call Mine. He does anything and everything I ask him to do, without the slightest  _ whimper _ of disagreement. Today is all about his reward.”

Elton shivered. The fierce look in John’s eyes paired with the assault on his neck showed no promise of reward... Only retribution. Elton forced himself to grin. 

“So here is to Elton, my client, my lover, and the most  _ truthful _ man I know...”

_ Shit _ , he had thought, shivering again. 

“Go ahead and lift your glass, love. We are about to drink to you. It would be quite uncouth to not join in.”

“Quite,” Elton murmured, lifting his glass with an unsteady hand.

“To Elton!,” John finished.

“To Elton!,” the crowd cheered.

Elton lifted the flute to his lips so John would let go of his vice-like grip to his neck. He finished the liquid with one long gulp. “This doesn’t… This doesn’t taste right, love,” Elton slurred, watching in fascination as the flute slip from his slack fingers. 

John ran his fingers through Elton’s hair gently, soothing him as he watched the drug begin to take effect. “It’s funny you think I’d not know about the fucking letter you tried to send to Taupin, full of lies about my treatment of you. Your help may be employed by you, but they answer to me, Elton,” he said, almost absentmindedly, before nodding in satisfaction as the drug took the proper effect. “It was never sent, love. Maisie gave it to me to read. After  _ everything _ he has done to you, you still run to him. You think you have had it rough, Elton? You think I have hurt you ever so grievously? You don’t know rough just yet. But you will. Oh, Elton, you will...”

Elton was powerless against the onslaught that evening. He could not fight, his limbs would not respond to his brain’s commands. He could not think, his mind already clouded from the previous substances and the rohypnol only added to the disorientation. He  _ knew _ when John fired Natasha he was in trouble. He  _ knew _ John had no issue dosing him with drugs to make him more pliant, and yet he still stayed. He still allowed John to run his life because he fucking still loved him. He was helpless, watching the man he loved, who professed to love him, allow him to be hurt over and over again. He begged for death many times, which only made John smile more. He gave in to the blessed dark the moment it came upon him. 

  
  


******************

Elton had never felt such pain in his life. He groaned, pushing his head under his pillow, not willing to open his eyes. He remembered bits and pieces of the night, so much worse than the last time John had allowed his friends to use him. Tears ran unchecked down his cheeks, dampening what he hoped was fresh linen. He did his best to force the night from his mind, and fell back into a haunted sleep.

******************

“Elton, stop moping. You have been in bed all day now.”

_ Moping? Is that really what he is calling this? Fucking MOPING?, _ Elton thought, turning over onto his back. He lifted the pillow off his head and glared at the man leaning against the doorframe as though nothing untoward had happened. As though he was not the ringleader in Elton’s hell. As though he still fucking cared for him... He slowly sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with his fists. “Get out of my house,” Elton whispered, his throat still raw. 

“Excuse me?”

“I said, get out of my fucking house.” Elton got unsteadily to his feet, grasping his bedside table as a wave of dizziness threatened to overcome him. He choked back a sob, unwilling to give John any more power over him. “You are not welcome here, John. You are not welcome in my life any longer. Get the fuck out of my house.”

“Let’s not be hasty, now, darling.”

“Darling? Darling? You have the fucking nerve to call me darling after how you have treated me? After how you have hurt me?,” Elton asked, pulling his dressing gown over his naked body taut. He limped towards him, wincing as cold blood ran down his legs. “You have no right to call me that, John. You have no right to any fucking pet names.” He pushed John out of the bedroom. “You have no right to enter my bedroom, or my house, ever again.”

“Elton,” John began, grasping his wrists his hands, an almost panicked look in his eyes. He saw his extravagant life going up in flames because of his revenge. “Let’s talk about this…”

“No! There is nothing to fucking talk about, John!,” Elton said, pulling free of his grasp. He pushed him farther down the hallway. “You and me are finished. I should have known you wouldn’t change. I should have known no matter how much I fought you and fought for you, I would be left with nothing but pain. Bernie was right. He’s always fucking right. And I betrayed him with you.”

“Elton, if you seriously think you can live without me, you are more delusional than I thought.”

“I will not only live, but I will fucking thrive, just to spite you. Now get the fuck out!,” Elton said with one final push. 

As Elton watched John fall down the stairs he could not muster any bit of sympathy. He slowly made his way down the stairs, holding tightly to the bannister so he would not fall, and stopped next to him. He kicked him once in the ribs for good measure. “You don’t tell the bobbies I pushed you and I won’t tell them about last night. No need for any of this to get out,  _ darling. _ Agreed?”

John could only nod. Elton limped away. It was time to find out which of his staff was loyal, and who else needed to be trashed.


	9. Seeking Freedom

Elton had sought nothing but freedom throughout his entire adult life. He had sought freedom when he left the stuffy life his parents’ had ensured for him, even if it was not really his own choice in the beginning. He had sought freedom when he left Bernie’s flat after receiving the first chunk of their fortune and buying his own massive estate. He sought freedom when he left his relationship with Bernie (the first time) on their first run in America, ready to unleash the animal he had done his best to contain throughout his life with the first person who promised to admit to actually being in a relationship with him. He had then sought freedom when he left John for Bernie (again), because at least he knew Bernie truly cared for him and not just what Elton could buy him. Even if he refused to admit his love to anyone other than Elton it was better than being used. He then sought freedom with John, again, knowing in the back of his mind he would end up only a captive once again. He knew would have a semblance of being accepted for himself, and in turn a semblance of love with John.

All he fucking wanted was love.

He sought freedom when he left John once again for Bernie, (feeling much like a pinball in an arcade by then), knowing in his heart he deserved more than John would ever be able to give him. (He wished every day his brain would follow his heart…) Bernie loved Elton just because he was Elton. That was something no one had ever done before, and will probably never happen again. Leaving Bernie for the rehab facility was the hardest thing he had ever done, but he wanted Bernie to be proud of him, so he went on to get ‘help’.

And he failed. He always failed Bernie.

He sought freedom in the many hotel rooms he had booked on his long taxi home after weeks of being chained in the medical game. He spent many a night sitting in a chair by the various windows, staring vacantly at the stars in the sky through tear filled eyes, open handles of vodka and gin and sometimes whisky steadily draining throughout the night on his lap. He knew he needed to go home and face everything sometime, of course. He knew he could not hide forever. He could have just booked a flight that first day and been done with it, but the shame of failing Bernie made him take his time.

He never thought of it as failing himself, really, which was a mighty shame.

He often thought of just ending his life. The heartache was almost too much for him to bear at times. He would open a bottle of pills he bought off the corner dealer, or push open his switchblade and lay it on his wrist, or fiddle with the linens until they were knotted nice and tight and hung in the closet, but he would always close the bottle, close the knife, close the door, because he had promised Bernie he wouldn’t attempt to take his life again.

He really needed to stop failing Bernie, which is why he was able to stop himself before he went through with it.

He closed his eyes remembering Bernie’s visit when he was laid up in the hospital after taking 85 valium at one of the many house parties John insisted on throwing. He had stood on the diving board, staring at the few guests who noticed him, and stated quite clearly that he had taken the valium and would expire within the hour. He remembered jumping into his swimming pool, and feeling the calm hold that only his oncoming death could bring him as he breathed in the water. 

Bernie had jumped in after him, he had learned later, while John stood by and watched him sink. Bernie had rode in the ambulance with him, while John made business related phone calls. Bernie had stood back and watched Elton’s stomach get pumped and sat beside him throughout his entire two day admittance, while John continued to plan the details of his next concert. Bernie also bickered with both Elton and John about still performing at Dodger’s stadium, fretting over Elton’s health and mental well being, until John told him he would have him removed if he didn’t stop, because it was Elton’s fault he was in the hospital in the first place.

Elton still performed, of course. He had to. And it was still his brightest memory in his career, and still spoken of over a decade later. Bernie had been so proud, and even John had smiled. Not a smirk, or a grin, but a true smile. Elton could not help but feel chuffed even now when he thought about it. 

He was good at music. He was good at performing. He was shit at everything else.

He limped to his bed, the whisky held loosely in his hand. His legs had fallen asleep long before he would. He stared at the telephone, wondering if he should ring Bernie and tell him he was at least alive. That he had kept that promise, even if he broke every other one. He wondered if Bernie even knew he was on his way home. 

He took a long pull from the bottle. He couldn’t even say he was ‘free’ any longer. He could finally admit to himself that he still did not have freedom even if he signed himself out of the facility, which was a good beginning, he supposed. He was still a captive in this game, the addictions, his need for love and acceptance, but he’d be damned if he knew how to change it.

Not even the damn liquid could give him the courage he needed to contact Bernie any longer.


	10. Parts of the Same Whole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter for this part of the series. The next part will up soon. Those who follow my stories know I update frequently.

When Ray told Bernie he needed to return home to tie up some loose ends, Bernie had been thrilled. As thankful as he was for Ray for putting his life on hold for Bernie, he missed the solitude and peace of living alone. Ray was so damn chipper and talkative all the time it made Bernie uncomfortable. Bernie was a lyricist, a poet. He made his living on the written word. When it came to conversation, well, he would rather have set himself on fire than converse with anyone, really.

That is why he hated the goddamn phone.

They were just about ready to leave for the airport when the blasted thing rang. They looked at each other with the same wide eyes as they normally did as of late whenever it rang. Bernie cleared his throat, the unspoken plea not lost on his best mate.  _ Please answer it because I can’t… I just can’t deal with the outside world… Not yet… Not without knowing where Reggie is, or if this is someone calling me to tell me he is dead... _

Ray sighed, dropping his luggage by the door. “What are you going to do while I’m gone, Bernie? Just stare at it while it rings? You need to start dealing with the outside world yourself, you know… Stop fretting over him and shit...” Ray muttered, shaking his head in annoyance. He picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

_ “Ray? This… It’s… It’s Elton. Is Be-Bernie around?” _

Ray’s eyes widened. “Yes, he is. Where are you, mate? You alright?”

_ “Yeah… I… I’m going to be alright. Please put Bernie on? I’m on a timer mate, and I’m sure he’ll let you know everything.” _

Ray held the phone towards Bernie, a ghost of a smile on his face. “It’s Elton, mate.”

The way Bernie lunged at the phone made Ray chuckle.

“Reggie? I’ve been so worried! Where are you? Oh, I’m so glad you’re alive. I thought you had died!”

_ “That’s one promise to you I’ll always keep, no matter how difficult it is on my end, Bernie. And damn, it’s been fucking difficult... I don’t have much time. I’m… well, not alright, but I hope to be. I returned to the facility, Bernie. I’m trying this again. It was a bit bothersome getting let back in the program, but if you wave enough money around you get what you want… eventually.” _

Bernie closed his eyes, leaning against the wall and slowly letting out the breath he seemed to have been holding for weeks. “I am so happy to hear that, my love. So, so happy.”

_ “I came in with the wrong attitude, I reckon. I came into this to make you proud, ya know? I didn’t want to fail you again, Bernie. You were ever so pleased when I brought it up in passing… I just wanted to keep that smile on your face. It took some time and probably a bit too much liquor before I came to the realization that I need to do this for me. That I actually want to do this for me. That I want to be free from the stronghold of my addictions. And I do. I really do.” _

“I will be here whenever you need to talk, my love. You have already made me so proud by continuing to live. I know it must have been hard with all the thoughts going on in your head and no one to turn to with them. You did so, so well, Reggie. I can’t even describe how proud I am, but now it’s time to rest and heal. Don’t do this for me, though, my love. I know part of you is still doing this for me, even if you refuse to admit it. Do this for you because you fucking deserve it, alright?” He heard Elton begin to sob, and wished more than anything he was there to comfort him in person.

_ “Thank you, Bernie. I love you so much. I… Oh, bloody hell, my times up for now, Bernie. I’m just glad someone there knew how the phone worked today. I hate answering machines.” _

“I can hear the bloody smirk on your face, my love, and I’ll do my best to get over my aversion to the telephone just for you. If it rings, I’ll always answer from this day forward.”

_ “Get one of those cordless phones. You are pretty behind the times with technology as it is… I’ll call when I am allowed time, Bernie. I love you.” _

“And I love you, Reggie.” Bernie hung up the phone, blinking his own tears back. “He’s going to be alright, Ray. He’s back at the center, and willing to listen this time. He’s going to be alright.”

“You’ll both be alright, Bernie. Just be patient with him. He has a lot to work through before he will be whole.”

Bernie nodded, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. “We both do, don’t we?”

“Parts of the same whole, you are. Now let’s get me to the bloody airport so I can get back here. I am really digging this retirement…”


End file.
